


Bad Idea

by Katharos



Category: Prince of Tennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-01
Updated: 2005-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-11 09:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11145387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katharos/pseuds/Katharos
Summary: the consequences of Bad Ideas.





	Bad Idea

Title: Bad Idea  
Author: Katharos  
Rating: G  
Fandom: Prince of Tennis  
Request: kneazles, this request: <http://www.livejournal.com/community/fic_on_demand/151890.html>. Hope this is a fandom you like! Afraid most of the antics are left to implication.  
Summary: the consequences of Bad Ideas.

Anime canon – ignores a certain flashback in the manga.

Day One for June Challenge.  
*makes face* large sections of this are crap. I usually like to do revisions but... I'm only ten minutes before the deadline my timezone, so here ya go.

Yagyuu adjusted his glasses and regarded his troops. “We are all prepared then? Marui?”

Marui blew a bubble. “Jackal’s working with Yanagi on his form. Yukimura’s planning the playing order for our next match. Sanada and the Captain are with him.”

Turning to his doubles partner, Yagyuu asked; “Niou?”

Niou lifted a brown paper bag up into the air and shook it. Something rattled. “Got the supplies.”

“So.” Light glinted off Yagyuu’s glasses. “All that is needed now is the subject.”

 

 

 

“Senpai!” Kirihara screeched as he was pinned to the ground. “What’re you doing?!”

“Don’t worry, Akaya-chan,” Niou crooned. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

“N-niou-senpai?” Kirihara was beginning to look very worried.

“And should it do so,” Yagyuu noted clinically, “It is unlikely you will retain any memory of it.”

Kirihara’s eyes widened in panic and he began to struggle in earnest.

Marui cursed as his gum bubble was popped over his cheek. “Hurry it up will you?”

“Alright alright,” Niou grumbled, peeling back Kirihara’s lip and probing at his teeth for a convenient gap.

Kirihara bit him.

Niou grunted painfully, and grinned. “Thank you, Akaya-chan.” Kirihara’s eyes widened in horror as Niou took the opportunity to slip the chocolate covered espresso beans into his mouth. Niou clamped his hand over his mouth before Kirihara could try to spit them out, and stroked his throat to encourage him to swallow them.

Kirihara went limp under their hands.

The three released him, rose, and backed away slowly.

“Think we broke him?” Marui asked

Yagyuu frowned thoughtfully. “I doubt – “ he began, then stopped as Kirihara twitched. And twitched again. Then slowly rose to a standing position as if pulled up by strings attached to his limbs.

As one, the three of them took a step back.

Kirihara turned to look at them, eyes wide, the thin circles of his irises an unnaturally bright green about his grossly dilated pupils. He giggled, high pitched and eerie. And took off running.

Yagyuu and Niou exchanged looks. Then as if possessing one mind they took off after their kohai, the trail of whimsical carnage he had left in his wake making him easy to track.

“Marui’s gone,” Niou reported grimly as they ran. “The rat.”

“Marui does have a high instinct for self-preservation,” Yagyuu acknowledged.

Niou cursed as they skidded around a corner, heading towards the tennis team’s club house. The tall, broad back of the figure standing by its door, and the tension in the way it stood that always brought the words ‘arse’ and ‘stick’ to Niou’s mind in interesting combinations allowed no doubt as to its identity.

The Double’s pair stumbled to a halt just behind him. “Sanada,” Niou gasped out. “Have you – “

Sanada turned slowly. Niou had to bite his lip to stop himself from sniggering. From the dark look on Sanada’s face

“Sanada-san,” Yagyuu said, just a _little_ too calmly. “Has Kirihara-kun been past?”

Slowly, Sanada reached up and pulled free one of the many flowers that had been stuffed under his cap. “Yes.”

A snort escaped Niou before he could stop himself and the full force of Sanada’s black displeasure hammered into him.

Niou coughed quickly. “We’ll just go find him then, shall we?”

“Inside,” Sanada growled when they would have hurried past him.

“Right,” Niou muttered, and opened the door of the clubhouse.

 

Inside, Kirihara was happily occupied in tearing the locker doors off their hinges and rooting through their contents with a kind of intent, rabid purposefulness.

Niou and Yagyuu glanced at each other. “Corner him?” Niou muttered.

Yagyuu inclined his head. “Pincer,” he murmured.

Their coordination on the court translate well into this situation as they slowly approached the younger boy, aiming to herd him into a corner of the room.

Kirihara tensed immediately and eyed them warily, some kind of animal instinct alerting him to their intentions.

Niou suddenly felt uneasy, as that thought reminded him of what they said about rats caught in a trap.

And was it his imagination or did Kirihara’s eyes look rather red?

Kirihara growled.

“Um, Yagyuu?” Niou muttered out the corner of his mouth. “Are humans supposed to be able to do that?”

Yagyuu carefully adjusted his glasses, keeping his eyes fixed upon the first year. “No.”

“Oh,” Niou sighed, just as Kirihara picked up a racket.

After that, things pretty much went to hell.

 

Almost two hours later the three miscreants stood in the centre of the wreckage that had once been the club house, listening to Yanagi recite a list of damages while Sanada stood at their vice-captain’s shoulder, arms folded across his chest and _glowering._

“Twenty-three team-members bags, shredded. Four mobile phones, crushed. Six uniforms, shredded.”

Yukimura had chased the captain off with smiles and soothing reassurances about making sure everything would be dealt with. The captain had taken one look at the damage and not even offered up a token protest.

“One net, torn lengthways. One net, torn sideways. One snapped pole. Sixty-four burst tennis balls. Three shattered practice rackets.”

Their vice captain was now seated upon a bench that had somehow miraculously survived damage, Kirihara sprawled on the floor beside him, deeply unconscious, and with his curly black head resting against Yukimura’s knee.

“Structural damage to the club house itself. Sixty per cent worth of roof tiles missing and/or cracked. Lockers torn from walls.”

Every now and again he would twitch slightly, although the way Yukimura was gently running his fingers through his hair seemed to be helping to settle him.

“Finally,” Yanagi concluded, looking up from his log book. “There is Kirihara himself. Introducing such a high concentrate of caffeine into his developing system may have lingering, damaging side effects.”

“Oh come on,” Niou said uneasily. “So we may have stunted his growth a little. He’s cute. He can pull it off. There won’t be anything worse than that. Surely.”

Their captain looked up and pinned them in place with a gentle smile. “I hope that is not the case. The amount of damage you have caused is already enough to earn several months worth of punishment.”

Kirihara mumbled and shifted restlessly in his sleep, and Yukimura left them hanging while he scratched gently at Kirihara’s ear until the younger boy quietened.

Yagyuu shifted uneasily beside him. “Yukimura-san…?” he ventured.

Yukimura glanced up, a mildly enquiring look on his face as if he had almost forgotten they were there. “Hmm? Ah yes. Yanagi will provide you with a copy of the damages. All tennis equipment must be mended by next practice. Sanada and I will also be designing personal, individualised training menus for you all.” The three sentenced cringed. “If further side-effects _do_ appear…” Yukimura smiled. “I’m sure will think of something else.”

 

After the first time he went red-eyed, Kirihara was quite puzzled by the number of laps three of his senpai were assigned. He didn’t know why Yukimura-san wasn’t doing something about the rotten fruit various team members were pelting them with, either. 


End file.
